I’m thinking of repurposing Craig Ferguson’s old, “It’s a great day for America, everybody!” with, uhhh, something more realistic. It’s been a bad week. In addition to the tiring news cycle, a water pipe on my house burst the other night and gushed many many gallons water, so I lost about half a day to stress and phone calls and worry. On the bright side, everyone is okay. Not looking forward to receiving that bill, though.

Since I last wrote to you, I paid a visit to Chicago. I like it there! I visited for work but I was able to spend a day book shopping with my friend Rincey and taking in a White Sox (vs Angels) game.

Apart from that, I’ve been reading. Fancy that!

IT’S A WRAP

Last month, I mentioned that I’d developed a new reading pattern. I’ve since abandoned it (lol) in favour of attempting to focus on one novel at a time. (Except for the slightly-waylaid Moby-Dick project, which is currently running behind.)

I mentioned Outline by Rachel Cusk last month. I’ll have more to say about it once I have finished the series, which I still intend to do.

On the plane to Chicago, I finished The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid. It was clumsy, unrealistic, and super fun. It was a great example of how much you’ll forgive a book for its blunders when it gets the action right. I found it entertaining.

On the plane back from Chicago, I read Normal People by Sally Rooney in its entirety. Some people are upset that it was long-listed but not shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize this year. I think Rooney is really bright and her strength is in making key characters come alive, fight hard battles, understand and misunderstand each other, and struggle with life in a semi-realistic manner. What she’s not so good at are the realities of class (which are broached, but rather monochromatically), visual description, and plot (to name a few). Sometimes a book is so good at one thing that the rest doesn’t matter. I’m not sure she’s quite there yet. But I did feel for Connor and Marianne and wish they could fix each other – so there’s that.

TOTALLY NORMAL PEOPLE

Next, I read My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Otessa Moshfegh: a somatic tale for our time. The unnamed narrator has led a tragic young adulthood and wants nothing more than to drug herself into a sleepy stupor for a year before – she imagines – emerging a changed woman. I found a lot of what friends said I’d like about Moshfegh here, including unlikeable women and disgusting details. I was really taken with the premise and the pathos around the narrator and her friend Reva’s grief and self-destructive tendencies. There’s a deep sense of tragedy and a convincing layer of disgust and ugly emotions that I’ve seldom seen other authors tackle. Its ending is quite something, though I’m conflicted on how I feel about the author’s use of real-life tragedy as a canvas for her characters. I get the sense that if I read the author’s interrogation of her own ideas the whole thing might come tumbling down. I found the book engrossing, though.

Not-so-engrossing was Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day, which I picked up in Chicago. I read Never Let Me Go some years ago and enjoyed it well enough, but having already learned the reveal, I was less enamoured with it than I might have been. Remains is a post-war tale of English country life narrated by a butler named Mr Stevens. His reflections on a bygone era are intriguing but subtle, and his consistently muted take on events kept my pulse low, to say the least. Stevens, straight-laced and reserved, is a difficult character to love. This is fine, but I was yearning for something a little darker and more traumatic than what I found. I think it is accomplished, but I didn’t find much to love here.

ON MY NIGHTSTAND

Right now… I don’t want to make this sound dramatic but I’m in the throes of newfound love. I’m reading a cult classic: The Last Samurai by Helen DeWitt. First published in 2000, it gained a literary following before going out of print. In 2016, it was resurrected by New Directions. I’ve heard about it on and off for years, particularly as I’ve had her second novel, Lightning Rods, on my wishlist since I first heard about it.

For me, The Last Samurai is a truly enrapturing read. Some of the subject matter is going way over my head (I mean, a 6-year-old character has a better grasp on a simple explanation of the Greek alphabet than I do) but it doesn’t feel like it matters. All I know is that every time I pick it up, I’m utterly engrossed. I keep giving myself 5 more pages, 5 more pages, 5 more pages. Today, I was upset at a café at lunch as the too-loud blasting of Justin Timberlake was too far at odds with its magic. I’ll let you know how well it sticks.

TIL NEXT MONTH…

Your turn! What’s on your nightstand? Have you read anything that has really engrossed you lately? Tweet me and tell me about it, please.

You may have noticed my absence in your inbox last month. (But probably you didn’t.) I had a small crisis of purpose. See, I’ve been eschewing online reading for other kinds, mostly books. In fact, I’ve finished 49 books this year; almost as many as I read in the all of 2017. It rather changes the purpose of these emails from “things I’ve been reading online plus a few books,” to, “here are some books I’ve been reading plus some digital pocket change.” If you’re fine with the latter, that’s cool, keep reading. If not… eek, sorry!

ON MY NIGHTSTAND

I’ve developed a new reading pattern lately. I used to have one fiction and one non-fiction book on the go at the same time (for the most part). Sometimes I’d have two novels in tandem, or I’d read 50 pages of one book, then read an entire other book before getting back to the first one. Lately, though, I’ve had a paperback book (novel, memoir, or essays) on the go, which I read in the daytime and evening, and a novel on my Kindle which I only read before falling asleep. It’s often not very fair on the night-time book, but I’m enjoying it. I’ve also got another novel going in the background right now. Oh, and Evan and I are reading Moby-Dick. So there’s that.

Currently, the daytime/evening book is Outline by Rachel Cusk. I began this one a good few years ago before realising it was the first in a trilogy (followed by Transit and Kudos), and without having heard much about its form. I’m glad I put it down because now reading the series feels like a little project. It’s unusual: it takes the form of a woman (we know she’s a writer and mother, and that’s about it). She’s in Athens to teach a class and meets her seatmate on a plane, an acquaintance, some students. She’s basically going around having conversations with various people – so it’s kind of like being talked at for pages on end. If you go into it without that knowledge, I imagine it’s a challenge to read. So far, I’m with it.

Sleepless Nights by Elizabeth Hardwick is kind of going in the background. I started it about four times and it’s a collection of reminisces by an old lady. It’s pretty modular and I’ve heard you can pick it up and begin at any chapter, or jump around. So I’ve been reading one chapter every other day or so.

On my actual nightstand, on my Kindle, is my current book club read: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid. The conceit is that it’s about a young journalist who has been plucked from obscurity by a Hollywood starlet and entrusted to sell her life story as a biography after the actress’s death. Really, the premise is just a device for a fictional Hollywood biography. It’s a bit messy and I’m mentally editing a lot of pointless sentences but it’s entertaining enough.

A ROUND-ABOUT LOOK

Here’s where we can get into some links and things.

A book I recently read and loved is The Idiot by Elif Batuman. It’s definitely not for everyone, as the mixed reviews you may have seen will prove. It’s pretty plotless, which some people have a hard time with (and is definitely a factor in slowing me down). It also made me feel deeply melancholy, not because of its central element of unrequited love, but because it reminded me so thoroughly of my first couple of years of university, bumbling along, feeling uncertain and overwhelmed, and slowly gathering an emotional vocabulary.

I saved this interview with the author for when I was done (though the spoilers are minor) and, like the interviewer, was taken with Batuman’s way of thinking.

ON MY SHELF

Finally, since it’s been awhile, I thought I’d round up a few books I loved reading over the past few months.

The Outrun by Amy Liptrot was an instant favourite for me. It’s often billed as an addiction memoir, but it’s rich in a sense of time and place, and turns into something of a returning-home and a travel memoir simultaneously. If you like your memoir with hints of travel and nature, this one is for you.

You may have heard or read me raving about Jenny Diski. She’s a firm favourite of mine. Recently, I picked up The Vanishing Princess, a collection of her short stories. There are a few threads in terms of style – a few subversive fairy tales, a couple of realist contemporary pieces, and some period (60s and 70s) stories. Almost all of them surprised me in some way and, rare in a short story collection, I got something from them all.

While reading up on Diski’s novels (of which I’ve read none, so far) I also came across this piece – Jenny Diski’s End Notes – which I’m assuming is one of the last interviews she gave. Like Heidi Julavits’ introduction to The Vanishing Princess, it gets to the heart of some of the things I love most about her writing in ways I’ve yet to learn how to articulate.

I’ve bored on quite long enough, so I’ll tell you about reading Moby-Dick another time, eh?

TIL NEXT MONTH…

Your turn! What’s on your nightstand? What do you think of this new format? Tweet me, won’t you?

Happy Friday! It’s Thursday afternoon as I write this. The blinds are drawn from the late afternoon heat as the sun passes over this side of the house. The cats are chasing a bluebottle, prancing hither and thither like Disney creatures in a field (which is really fricking adorable), then bouncing off things and frightening each other and puffing up into big fur-balls (which is hilarious if unsettling). Is it just me or are they actively getting cuter?

My mind feels fuzzy and my thoughts incoherent today, which is a shame since it’s the one day that I owe you a missive. I’ve the lingering feeling that I’m coming down with something. Plus, it’s been one of those news weeks. Perhaps you’ll have noticed that I don’t tend to comment directly on what politicians are up to here? That’s by design. I’m interested in writing and art – and justice, sure – but it’s very easy to let mainstream politics take over. There’s enough of that on my feed (as probably yours) and when things are so chaotic it’s important to take a break from that to think about things that are more permanent, or joyful, or thoughtful. Though I must say I feel this tweet.

ART / WORK

Coming from a hugely creative city and moving to a predominantly agricultural one continues to be an adjustment. I miss literary and film festivals, book launches, receptions, and concerts, and I haven’t found a creative community that I really connect with here.

Lately, I’ve felt blocked in a way that I haven’t found words to describe – which is kind of a feedback loop. Austin Kleon says that problems of output are problems of input. I hope to make it to an art gallery or something while I’m in SF soon. But I’ve also having that feeling that I can never go home (in the philosophical sense). The iconic Mackintosh building in my old Glasgow neighbourhood burned down again, and it’s 2 years since the last Small is Beautiful (a conference for microbusinesses that I was lucky to contribute to bringing to life), so in some ways I feel further from my old creative work life than ever.

Working from home and online, I gravitate towards people who are sharing similar experiences. One thing that’s kept me going recently, both to immerse myself in and to have chattering gently in the background, are illustrators’ vlogs. I’m nosy and I also enjoy seeing how people spend their time; doubly so when they have a somewhat similar profession to mine. I’ve enjoyed Fran Meneses‘ videos for a long time, and she often shares her artistic process and tidbits from behind the scenes. She’s also ramping up for a big overseas move, which I’ll be following with interest. Recently, I’ve also been following a watercolour illustrator called Holly Exley, who does similar videos in a different style. Ashley Baxter, a founder and photographer I know from Glasgow, has also been sharing some of her business journey on YouTube. After going off business podcasts a little while ago, their videos have been scratching that water cooler chat itch.

BOOK- ADJACENT

Lauren Groff’s By The Book is an all-timer. Shut it down! Just kidding.

ON MY SHELF

M Train set me off on a blitz of similar books. I read Deborah Levy’s The Cost of Living, the latter of the two books she calls her “living memoirs” and written during a time of transition, financial stress, and her mother’s death. The way she reveals links between ideas in her stories is pretty addictive, which is a shame because I’ve never read any others quite like her.

I also dove into Eve Babitz’s Black Swans, which is billed as fictional short stories but which I’m pretty sure are essays (they’re all in the first person and she refers to famous people and their behaviour, which is why I think it’s disguised as fiction). “Free Tibet”, about losing a friend, totally killed me. It also held some glimpses into her state of mind in the nineties (she’s known for the sixties and seventies). It was my favourite of her books I’ve read thus far.

Fiction-wise, I enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society: it was more detailed and accomplished than I’d (snobbily) anticipated. I’ve now turned my attention back to The Idiot by Elif Batuman – a divisive novel that I began in March but found I wasn’t in the right mood to read. Now that I’ve renewed my focus and know what to expect, I’m enjoying it more. It also has great cover art in the UK (linked) and the US (pictured), which is very annoying because it makes me want to own both.